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1. 1 On November 23rd, 2009, Harvey Stroud said:

   Anything done by anyone anywhere at any time that undermines this entity for whom homo sapiens sapiens membership cannot be verified, is a good think, and strikes a match for freedom. She is nothing but a failure and a tv personality, warranting the occasional appearance on the Mike Douglas show - it’s defunct but as an example, other than having guests that were promoting Vegas gigs - that same old tired set of schtickers, the show had Peter Frampton when his day after “Comes Alive” was done; he performed some wholly forgettable song from whatever his album was (pre-CDs) and among those of us who particularly liked all or part of “Comes Alive,” it was an unsettlingly mournful experience. At best, unless a gig cleaning bus station toilets opens, this is the level of celebrity this illiterate, non-sequitur toting sh*t-for-brains, am I not the cutest little provocateur, oh oh oh, I meant rogue, more like in the usage roguish - not uncomplimentary when applied to a male; horrific when applied to an abused circus elephant who goes postal. As a purported she who appears to be a mesomorph (I am grateful to whatever powers that be if there are any that I cannot testify to her apparent biological femininity). If there is a soul brave enough to try getting it, a certain DNA sample would be of help to the opposable thumb and the not thumbed lifeforms here on the planet if it can be demonstrated that she came from the same far far away galaxy as did Stalin, W, Hitler, Reagan, Batista, Amin, Arafat, and too many others born on a planet noted for the sociopathy of even its botanical elements, acceptance of everyone’s need of a hobby with respect to serial killers, but which could not contain the piss-poor protoplasm of the bad-brained, these suited, coiffed clucks among us prominently who have, at best, the moral reasoning abilities of a precocious Western Earth yoot at 10 years of age.

2. 2 On November 23rd, 2009, Harvey Stroud said:

   Anything done by anyone anywhere at any time that undermines this entity for whom homo sapiens sapiens membership cannot be verified, is a good thing, and strikes a match for freedom. She is nothing but a failure and a tv personality, warranting the occasional appearance on the Mike Douglas show - it’s evolutionarily defunct but as an example, other than having guests that were promoting Vegas gigs - that same old tired set of schticksters, the show once featured a sheepish Peter Frampton when his epoch after “Comes Alive” was done; he performed some wholly forgettable song from whatever his new album (pre-CDs)was and among those of us who particularly liked all or part of “Comes Alive,” it was an unsettlingly mournful experience. As for the highbrow author under question she at best, unless a gig cleaning bus station toilets opens, the gray and hopeless world of anti-talent afternoon chatty Cathy shows is this former candidate’s purview as a celebrity who, like the majority of them, can do nothing but occasionally say something that one supposes is in the cute range of things - at least to the drooling dropouts, of which group she has been several times a chapter president (this leadership qualifying her for the presidency of the pre-W superpower US - hell, look at him; the female here is more qualified than was the male (if male he is, or human) And the level of celebrity warranted by this anti-intellectual, anti-learning, if it can’t be reduced to four words she cannot grasp it, this cougar wanna-be, seemingly practicing for that fad with male (one cannot be certain that is all, but one has seen films of the former, including her giving birth to the unfortunate that was foist upon her unwed daughter. Our exemplar of late stage mediocrity is illiterate, a non-sequitur toting biped with hyena sh*t-for-brains who gets by on her girlish, “Am I not the cutest little provocateur, oh oh oh, I meant rogue, tee hee hee?” Despite the fact that “rogue”s actual meanings are more applicable to males and mammals gone wild. The roguish male is essentially rakish, and is in his way fairly cool; the rogue elephant, finally rising up after a score of years of abuse by a gap-toothed SPalin sympathizer (and would be moreso had he the skill of reading, but is unfortunately for him and his peoples, he is a product of the program of systematic dimunition of education begun by Reagan, repairs to that blatant plot to keep the populace ignorant and thus malleable to the manipulations that keep socioeconomically disadvantaged poor and in their place. This was and will again be, lest we continue to strike matches of humiliation toward marginalizing this thing, quite happy with that GOP plot. Look it up. The first budget to be cut is education - for the educators haven’t any sort of a unified front nor a war chest - look at the scandal that is the instructors’ pay - so pro-education policies, despite the lofty rhetoric spewed during national elections, held about when the kids are getting their first report cards, induce voters to vote a soi-disant education adherent, even though in W’s case, he had none but did hang out at Yale for a trade-school MBA, achieved by his daddynem funding a chair, through a proxy or many, in some non repulsive to their delicate cutthroat business sensibilities (a humanities department chair, or even a science one, anything that would elevate the successful student intellectually above each and every Bush or Cheney that wastes oxygen atoms in order to stay alive. This is our roguish elephant’s - recall please that she is, in terms of brain power, possessed of a cranium of human waste, and given her incessant vitriolic scared of everything ambience, given away by her word choices (though she’s clearly not the word farm from which to harvest anything in the neighborhood of a mot juste except simple low denominator ideas. Like all the others who would hold or seek public office, she and most of they are brain-f*cked to the extent that there is nothing anywhere beyond puerile greed that qualifies them. But here in America, we like that. Dog, easy to understand and we get to act like the characteristics we attributed to our anywhere-in-the-US redneck daddies (pronounced ubiquitously “diddy”.) As a purported human bean as the rest of us, she at least appears to be a mesomorph (I am grateful to whatever powers that be if there are any that I cannot testify to her apparent biological femininity). If there is a soul brave enough to try getting it, a sure and certain DNA sample would be of help to the opposable thumb and the not thumb-challenged lifeforms here on the planet, that it likely can be demonstrated that she’s no featherless biped terrestrial DNA and very likely was exiled to our Earth from that same far far away galaxy were, in order of their occurring to me, not in order of harm done, did Stalin, W Dick and the Rove-ing Goebbelian, Hitler, Reagan, Batista, Amin, Arafat, and too many others throughout this planet’s recorded and certainly from the pre-writing epochs equal to about 2 to 50 times longer than our being so politesse-leaning, objective historians and commentators, born on a planet noted for the sociopathy of even its botanical elements (the much more corpulent venus fly trap from whose jaws not even our giant rat of Sumatra, as contrived by Conan Doyle, acceptance of everyone’s need of a hobby with respect to serial killers and those that don the reaper’s raiments and behave as, well, does the Grim Reaper (who really is just misunderstood and is not so bad once you get to know him.her or it - ONCE), but which could not contain the bizarre, slow witted, wholly unpredictable piss-poor protoplasm of the bad-brained, now and here suited, coiffed clucks among us prominently who have, at best, the moral reasoning abilities of a precocious Western Earth yoot at 10 years of age. Attack, please, as often and as harshly, without going beyong some unknown point of meanness - one must, while assailing her, ask, what would Sarah do?” and “What would Sarah do if her armanents and naturally growing feather-like medusans showed? She has, for reasons unfathomable, a much higher Q-rating (unless they’vechanged the letter for name and face recognition, regardless of a positive, neutral, or negative affective response valence. She does not usually move very fast; heels of the sort demanded by her feet-binding party are not at one with her wide old splayed bare feet, the condition she enters the great outdoors to do her part for extinction, not having grasped that extinction is to be avoided; to her, working in any capacity regarding extinction means naught save kill bubbe kill. Alackaday. Help us all keep those potshots, these undermining banana peels and bottles of seltzer down her pants, as it were, until she finds that unsightly bruises and moist groin conditions generative of yet another instance of mold, one having already having been named after her due to its botanical urge to bite something without releasing it while wearing lipstick. The molds’ tastes in cosmetics is rather on the patchy side, but then so is SPalin’s, so water found its level again, and gravity, that product of incomprehensible and thus insonsequence science, has again asserted itself, as did her DAR auxilliary pencil done a city slicker sidewalk grate in Vegas, again, water’s level. Alas, this unfeathered biped (Woody Allen’s admittedly stolen line from someone, perhaps Dorothy Parker, who defined the human as the thing without feathers) or perhaps feathered yet having these growths, benign yet repellent to the human bean’s eye, are minimized or even plucked; it is rare that one catches a glimpse of a clot of ‘em, but she is in more danger from avian predators than are the humans amongst us. TTFE, my dearest whatever, Sarah the Voraciously Narcisstic. Til we meet and I’ve no place to run.

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